ROSE TIME 



whole year in the garden. Those who have mowing June 

 under a hot sun in view will possibly demur to the 

 suggestion that the real hard work of the year has been 

 done ; but at least the preparatory work has been com- 

 pleted. And mowing is not laborious in the same way as 

 digging and path-making. The modern mower runs as 

 easily as an aeroplane, and the cut grass has a delicious 

 smell. The work is really only hard when the amateur 

 wills that it shall be so by choosing an inferior machine, 

 and using it in an unclean, unoiled state. 



There is one thing that I will admit — nay, with a 

 definite object in view, gladly affirm — namely, that tasks 

 multiply rapidly in the garden in summer. Practically 

 all the digging, manuring, turfing, planting, and sowing 

 have been done, and yet we are busier than ever. Some 

 plants want watering, others staking, and others thinning. 

 Strawberries need mulching, Gooseberries netting, early 

 Peas gathering, climbing Roses tying, paths rolling after 

 rain, and Grass edges trimming after the completion of 

 the mowing. A score of things, not one of which we 

 might think of in walking through a neighbour's garden, 

 want doing in our own. And the apparently minor 

 tasks sometimes take up the most time. For instance, 

 the pricking-out of a bedful of young Cauliflowers in 

 a distant corner of the garden may pass unoticed 

 by everybody except the person who does the work, 

 and yet it may have taken two hours out of a busy 

 day. 



The object which I referred to in the preceding para- 

 graph is that of suggesting to employers of garden labour 

 that consideration is urgently called for in the busy days 

 of summer. A gardener should not be called away to 

 clean windows, or wash down a motor car, or pluck a 

 fowl, and then be sharply admonished if the grass gets 

 223 



